


trust and subjugation

by Snappy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, M/M, Skullfucking, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snappy/pseuds/Snappy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>self indulgent unbeta'd cytelier...........slam dunk me into the FUCKING trash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trust and subjugation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inactive_pseud_sorry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inactive_pseud_sorry/gifts).



Cy had eventually become accustomed to the loss of his eye. The initial trauma was a painful, terrifying mess (much of his time with Atelier can be summed up in these three words), but after he finally recieved proper surgery to deal with the enucleation, things started to get better from there. Atelier had a custom eyepatch made just for Cy, measured exactly to his head. Apparently, it was so painstakingly crafted so it "wouldn't get in the way" of any collars, muzzles or gags that Atelier decided to use so he "didn't have to look at that disgusting socket," but Cy liked to silently think that it was because he wanted his special little slave to have something nice to wear. He didn't allow the use of any painkiller pills, but that didn't really matter. Cyrus was bought to be Atelier's personal little pain whore, and sluts like him didn't deserve to have their senses dulled in such a manner. It wasn't too bad, nothing unbearable. Atelier never really messed around with that eye very much now.  
  
Or so Cy thought. He knew something was up when the surgeon visited and Atelier instructed Cy to take off the eyepatch. Cy assumes it's just a checkup to see how the eye's been healing, but when the doctor pulls the overhead light closer to his face and picks up a delicate pair of scissors. Cy tenses.  
  
"M-Master?"  
  
"Shut up. Did I grant you permission to speak?"  
  
"No, b-but...I-"  
  
"One more word and I'll muzzle you again. Lee, continue."  
  
He shuts the fuck up pretty quickly after that exchange, holding the fear inside him. Fear of the unknown, fear of pain, fear of further, irreversible damage. He takes a deep breath and digs his fingernails into his palm to endure the procedure. Normally, it would be performed under anaesthesia, but slaves didn't get to enjoy such a luxury. "You should be grateful for the fact you're getting any medical care at all," Atelier's words echoed in the back of his head.  
  
Bora prys Cy's eyelid open with a retractor and sets to work, incisioning into the gentle tissue that's already healed over so perfectly. Cy knows Atelier has a reason for this, but he's pretty damn stumped in what the fuck it is. Lucian is holding down Cy's body as it writhes on the examination table. He's trying so fucking hard to ignore the pain and fear of losing an eye all over again, he wants to be able to show Atelier how strong he is through this but it _hurts_ and it's _hard_. "I know buddy, I'm sorry," Bora whispers, putting down the scissors.  
  
There's a _huge fucking sensation_ of pressure before Cy hears suction and a popping sound followed by an intense feeling of lacking something. Bora must have taken out his orbital implant. But what the hell was the reasoning behind that? Lucian lets go of Cy and he lets out the breath he had been holding, shakily sitting up. He wants so desperately to ask Atelier  _why_ he's doing this, but that would get him muzzled and beaten again. Even though Bora stuffs the socket with gauze, Cy can't get rid of the empty feeling on the right side of his face.  
  
Bora looks exceedingly uncomfortable as he swivels around to face Atelier. "You have about two, three inches max to work with. I personally wouldn't recommend getting any other kind of, u-uh, _fluid_ , inside except for sterile water."  
  
"I thought I asked about working with the sinus cavity," Atelier asks, utterly unimpressed.  
  
Bora shifts. "Lucian and I both looked into the possibility, but the risks outweigh and potential...benefits...it might have. The bones are required to support the skull, and--"  
  
"Enough," he says, waving his hand. "How soon?"  
  
"About a week. It's best to change the gauze twice daily."  
  
Atelier nods, content with the answer, and pulls the eyepatch back onto Cy's face. He closes his eye as Atelier does so, cherishing the warm feeling of his hands so close to his face, interweaving through the tangles of his hair and brushing lightly across his skin. The touch is gone almost as quickly as it came, and Cy isn't able to stifle the soft gasp that comes with the absense of his master's fleeting touch.

  
  
A week passes. Atelier doesn't fuck Cy once during this time, never visiting him at all. When he finally comes back, Cy is so absolutely starved for touch and attention that he's groveling at Atelier's feet, quite literally kissing the ground he walks on. Atelier is treated like a god, deserving of all worship Cy is able to offer up to him, regardless of his holy wrath and punishment. He pulls Cy up to his knees, looking up to Atelier as the eyepatch is brusquely taken off. He opens the eyelid with his fingers and looks into the orbit, satisfied.  
  
"Has it bled at all the past few days?"  
  
"No, master."  
  
"Any pain?"  
  
"Nothing unbearable, master."  
  
Atelier nods, satisfied, and pulls Cy along by the chain to the nearest bed. There's always this sense of tantilizing horror every time Atelier takes Cy down to play. On one hand, it's personal, one on one time with Atelier focused on Cy and only Cy. He's able to offer his body up to Atelier and have his master desecrate it in any way he so desires. It's wonderful, it's intoxicating, and it's singlehandedly some of the scariest fucking times of Cy's life. Atelier has ripped into his body and torn him apart. He's made Cy scream until his throat went raw and blood gurgles from the corner of his mouth. Atelier has literally  _killed_ Cyrus before.  
  
Cy lets that sink in. Atelier has murdered Cy in cold blood, it being an absolute fucking miracle that he's still alive and breathing now.   
  
He doesn't let that stop him from clinging to Atelier, pressing his lips to every possible exposed portion of skin he's able to. The sound of clinking metal lets Cy know that Atelier is unbuckling his belt and with each moment that passes Cy is getting harder and harder at just the thought of it. Atelier's cock is already erect, standing out so perfectly and Cy can't help but to lean up and start to wrap his mouth around the tip.   
  
He was foolish to act on his own accord without asking permission. Atelier shoves him back down onto the bed and grips his throat with one hand, squeezing tightly in warning. "None of that tonight." He lets go and Cy gasps, both aroused and starved for oxygen. Atelier's legs are straddling his chest as Cy watches him pump his dick a few times, bringing it to rest on his right cheekbone. If Atelier wasn't going to let Cy suck it, then why was he still so close to his fa--y  
  
In an instant, everything clicks together. It makes sense now. Terrifying, paralyzing, soul-crushing sense. Atelier brushes Cy's bangs out of the way and grips his dick, resting the tip on top of his eyelid.  
  
"...M-Mas-ter?" Cy asks quietly, the panic evident in his voice.   
  
"Don't move."  
  
Cy doesn't. He balls the sheets tightly into a fist and stays perfectly still, pulse racing. Atelier peels open his eyelid until the skin around the socket is taut. It's not a big hole, but it's as big as it's gonna get. Whether it would be big enough to fit his master's dick was yet to be determined.  
  
It doesn't  _hurt_ , per se, but as Atelier inserts the head of his shaft inside, there's an uncomfortable pressure and the distinct feeling of wrongness. It shouldn't be in there. It shouldn't be in there, Jesus fucking  _Christ,_ Atelier's  _dick_ is in Cy's  _eye_ and Cy starts to squirm and panic underneath Atelier's weight. In response, Atelier pulls a blade and shoves it against Cy's neck in warning.

"I _said,_ don't fucking move," Atelier hisses.  
  
Cy listens this time, finally understanding what Atelier meant by that. Don't move. If he moves when Atelier isn't expecting it, he might accidentally thrust too deep and cause irreversible damage to Cy. Wouldn't be any good to have a prize slave that was nothing more than a useless vegatable. So, Cy stays still, trembling in fear only in his mind. Atelier shifts his weight a bit and pushes a bit further into his eye, grimacing.  
  
"God damn, it's tight," he mutters. "Tight fit, I can make it work," he says softly under his breath. Atelier grabs a fistful of Cy's hair and enters as far as he can until the pressure in the back of Cy's skull is almost enough to make him scream. Without any further warning, Atelier starts the first thrust. He pulls out entirely and rushes back in until his master's dick is once again hitting bone. He can't stifle a gasp. Once Atelier gets a feel for the amount of space he has, the thrusts speed up in intensity. In and out, again and again. Cy screws his eye shut to endure it, eliciting a low moan from Atelier.  
  
"Shit, that's good," he hisses, and slams in again. Apparently, tightly closing your eyes contracts the muscles of the socket area, and Atelier seemed to really like that. At least one of them did. When Cy opens his eyes again, he looks up to Atelier's heavenly, god-like figure--back arched and curved, the light from the lamp behind him refracting around every curve of his body. His face was focused, looking down at Cy's eye with extreme concentration. He couldn't leave himself to carelessly fuck Cy like this, not with this hole. It was a delicate, dangerous thing Atelier was doing, and he had to make sure he didn't damage the goods while doing so.  
  
It seems like hours before Atelier finally seizes up and climaxes. He didn't bother listening to Bora's advice, instead opting to spill his load deep inside Cy's eye. Cy isn't upset--once he accepted the situation, he expected something like this to happen. Atelier pulls out of his socket and leans down, planting rough kisses up and down Cy's neck. He's sucking on Cy's collarbone and jawbone and biting into the fleshy meat of his neck enough to leave bruises, and oh god, it's so good. It makes the entire ordeal worth it, in Cy's eyes.  
  
"Master, g-god, I,"  
  
"Mmf, not now, fuck. Get Bora to drain your eye first. It won't do to have wasted so much effort on you only for infection to kill you before I'm ready to."


End file.
